


Hogan's Mash Up

by baja_king



Category: Hogan's Heroes, MASH (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baja_king/pseuds/baja_king
Summary: A routine mission goes awry as the Gestapo hunts for two survivors from a plane crash.  Hogan meets an unusual operative.





	1. Downed Gooney

#  **Downed Gooney**

It was too cold, thought Hogan.  The Luftwaffe coat betrayed him as an American officer as well as a garment intended to keep a man warm.  As he drove the Opel Blitz truck, he silently swore every instance he hit a pothole.  The moonless night hindered his passage down the lonely dirt road.  He wanted to use the headlights but feared Gestapo intervention.

Hogan realized that Newkirk silently suffered.  He could not use a staff car for the night’s mission, so the men had to suffer the two-ton truck.  He did not know how many airmen required rescue.  The Underground contact provided few details.  Hogan knew the way to the old barn.  He hit an especially large pothole, causing Newkirk to mutter words unrecognizable as English.

“Sorry, old bean,” quipped Hogan.  He hoped the wisecrack might cheer up the corporal.  Instead, Newkirk continued muttering.  Hogan could not make out most of the words except ruddy officer, American driver, and rotten luck.  Hogan sobered his tone and said, “This road got it in that last air raid.”

“Good show for us,” Newkirk sarcastically said.  He sighed, “Sorry, Governor; it’s not your bloody fault.”

Hogan said, “Understood.”  He barely made out the framework of the barn in the darkness.  As he slowed the vehicle, he flashed the headlights two long flashes, followed by one short flash – _me_ in Morse code.  He saw the flashlight response: two short flashes, one long flash, three short flashes – _us_.  Headlight signals lacked imagination.

Hogan carefully made his way around the back of the barn to conceal the truck from the road.  As he turned the ignition off, he grabbed his pistol.  Newkirk already has his rifle ready.  The barn was a regular site used by the Underground.  Hogan did not take unnecessary chances.  His greatest concern was betrayal or capture.  In a German uniform, he could be shot for espionage.

As he alit from the truck, Hogan realized the Underground agent proved equally cautious, as he stood poised with a rifle.  Hogan knew another agent probably approached Newkirk in a similar manner.  Hogan had not previously met this particular agent, unsurprising considering the Gestapo’s aggression.

Hogan calmly stated, “The stars shine brightly tonight.”

“Enough for romance but not for war,” the agent replied.

As Newkirk came around to the driver’s side of the truck he said, “Bloody hell.  Who comes up with these codes?”

The agent disregarded the comment and said, “I am Ernst Dreschner.”

Hogan said, “Oberst Max Gutermuth.”  He holstered his pistol and extended his hand in friendship.  Dreschner slung his rifle over his left shoulder before returning the gesture.  Both men understood that neither used a real name.  Underground agents changed names more frequently than shirts, and for the same reason: the last one became dirty.

“In here,” said Dreschner.

The four men entered the dimly lit barn.  Hogan saw several armed civilians.  He did not recognize any of the men from his previous contact.  Then he saw a man and woman in disheveled flight uniforms.  Whomever they were, Hogan realized something terrible happened.  The man had a bloodied bandage around his head and had his left arm in a makeshift sling.  The woman looked young and terrified.

“Dear God,” said Hogan.  “What happened?”

“Captain John Meyers,” said the man.  “The krauts shot down our gooney just outside of Nuremberg.  We barely got away but the rest of my men…”

Hogan saw the vacant stare.  He knew it was possible to land a damaged Douglas C-47 Skytrain if certain conditions prevailed.  Looking at the two people in front of him, he reasoned they crawled out of the gooney.  He asked, “What was your mission?”

Meyers said, “Medical evacuation flight.  One of the Irregulars was badly wounded.  We were supposed to recover him and return to England.”

It made sense.  Hogan did not approve of women as flight nurses.  It was too dangerous.  Despite the military attire, this particular nurse looked like a woman.  He reasoned she was twenty-two or twenty-three years of age.  He asked, “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Margaret Houlihan,” the woman nervously replied.

Dreschner motioned for Hogan to follow him into a stall.  Hogan took the cue.  Dreschner quietly said, “I could not bear telling them that Pericles died from his injuries.”

Hogan shook his head and said, “Thanks – and thanks for taking care of them.”

Dreschner said, “We can’t linger here.”

“I understand,” said Hogan.

Not all missions succeeded.  The gooney’s operation suffered.  Hogan had to evacuate the two officers.  With Meyers injured, he knew the task became exponentially more difficult.  He wondered if the man could make it in through the tunnel.  Using the south gate entrance might work.

Hogan led the two officers to the truck.  He silently appreciated Newkirk’s professionalism with the nurse.  The two men helped Meyers and Houlihan into the back of the truck.  Briefly, he thought Newkirk was going to explode when Hogan ordered him to drive.  Hogan needed Newkirk to bluff his way into the compound.  As he climbed into the back, Hogan heard Newkirk mutter something about officers having all the luck.

Hogan said, “No matter what happens, I need you two to be absolutely still and quiet when we get to our destination.”

Meyers asked, “And where exactly are we going?”

Hogan replied, “Luftstalag 13.”

Meyers exclaimed, “A POW camp?”

Hogan said, “Relax.  Above ground it’s a POW camp but below ground it’s an outfitting and embarkation center.”  As the tarp lowered, Hogan knew his passengers must be scared.  There was no light in the back of the truck.  Sitting in complete darkness, the three remained quiet.  When the truck started, conversation was impossible anyway.

The ride proved unusually turbulent in the cargo bed.  Hogan thought he might lose his meager dinner but managed to keep it down.  He knew the truck’s course from every twist and turn.  He listened as Newkirk spoke with the gate guards.

“Where are your orders?”

Newkirk replied, “I lost them.  If Kommandant Klink finds out – zoot!  Straight to the Russian front!”

Hogan heard two men laughing before one gave Newkirk permission to enter.  He sighed in relief as the truck moved.  The simple bluff worked.  When it stopped again, the motor disengaged.  He waited for Newkirk to climb the tailgate before raising the tarp.  Hogan realized they were at the back entrance to Barracks 2.  While not an ideal location for the truck, it would facilitate transferring the two officers.

The barracks were dark.  A couple of men groaned in annoyance as Hogan and Newkirk entered with the two officers.  He quickly closed the door and turn on a light.  This encouraged increase complaints but Hogan needed Wilson to check Meyers.

LeBeau sat up and cried, “I smell a girl!”  He turned to the entourage, jumped out of bed and said, “Mademoiselle!  A pleasure to meet you!”  The other men reacted positively to see a lovely young woman standing in their barracks.

Hogan snapped, “Knock it off!  They barely escaped a downed gooney.  Wilson, you have a patient.”

“Yes sir,” said Wilson as he climbed down from his bunk.

Hogan said, “Meyers, I hope you can manage a ladder.  We’re going down.”

“I can manage,” said Meyers.

“Kinch, with us,” said Hogan.

The two officers looked surprised as Kinchloe activated the tunnel ladder.  Wilson helped Meyers.  Kinchloe followed and Hogan gestured to Houlihan to use the ladder.  Then he climbed down the ladder.  Meyers and Houlihan wore faces of confusion and nervousness.  Wilson led Meyers to the spare cot.

“I can help him,” said Houlihan.  “I am a nurse.”

Hogan shook his head and allowed Houlihan to take care of her patient.  He followed Kinchloe to the radio and said, “Their mission fouled.”

“Downed gooney birds are never good,” said Kinchloe.

Hogan dictated his message for London including a request for instructions.  He did not know Pericles but the codename suggested the man was a member of the same troop as Hercules.  Too many men died in this war.  Hogan accepted it as an unpleasant fact even though it saddened him.  In a strange way, it furthered his resolve to do all he could to help bring about an end to the war as quickly as possible.

Satisfied that Kinchloe had things under control, Hogan went to the unofficial guest quarters.  He realized the problem of having a woman.  He was not set up to accommodate the fair sex.  He could not have Houlihan take a spot in the barracks.  In addition, he could not justify Meyers’ condition – not even Schultz would buy an explanation.  He had to keep the two in the tunnels.

“He needs rest,” said Houlihan.

Wilson said, “Good thing we have plenty of blankets.”

Hogan said, “Lieutenant, this isn’t a co-ed POW camp.  You’ll have to stay in the tunnels.”

Houlihan cried, “Here?”

Hogan said, “Look, I’m sorry, but there’s no other way.  I can sneak a man into camp and the guards won’t notice.  You, well, you’re, you’re…”

“Don’t even think of finishing that sentence, sir,” snapped Houlihan.  “I’ll manage.”

Hogan turned as LeBeau eagerly approached and said, “Mademoiselle, we have some strudel.”

“She don’t want any strudel,” said Newkirk as he approached.  “Hi, we haven’t been properly introduced.  Corporal Peter Newkirk, at your service.”

Houlihan asked, “In which army?  That’s a kraut uniform, you know.”

“Just a temporary disguise, love,” smiled Newkirk.

“Corporal Louis LeBeau,” introduced the Frenchman.  “I will cook you a beautiful breakfast!”

Hogan snapped, “Knock it off you two.”  He looked at Houlihan and said, “The danger’s not over yet.”

Houlihan stood akimbo and countered, “I know that kind of danger.”

“Good,” said Hogan.  He realized Wilson approached carrying a mattress, extra blankets and pillows.  When did Wilson leave?  Hogan could not afford such a lovely distraction.  Meyers needed tending to and a nurse was fortuitous but impractical to take care of.  He remembered when Tiger first visited the camp.

Satisfied that his guests were properly accommodated, Hogan and his men returned to the barracks.  Kinchloe remained in the tunnels.

#HH x MASH#

Houlihan tried relaxing.  The tunnel was cold and musty.  She waited until Meyers fell asleep before allowing herself the luxury.  As an army brat, she was accustomed to constantly moving.  Born in 1920 in an Army base hospital, she assumed everyone was military during the early years of her life.

When she graduated nursing school in 1942, Houlihan immediately joined the Army.  She eagerly anticipated her first assignment in London.  She anticipated a clean hospital.  Nothing prepared her for flight nurse duties.  She flew several medical missions into Italy and appreciated her teammates.

This particular mission troubled Houlihan from the onset.  She may have been young and slightly naïve, but even she knew rescuing an injured spy meant unusual danger.  Meyers did not provide her with any details.  She only knew her small role of taking care of an injured man.  She tried to remain tough when the gooney took evasive action.  She even managed to attach correctly her parachute when Henderson ordered the crew to get ready to bail.

How did things go so wrong?

The plane started nosediving.  Houlihan found herself clutching the doorframe leading to the cockpit.  Someone cried _too low to jump_!  Someone else cried _this is it boys_!  The plane began to level but she heard a small explosion.  Men raced to the rear of the plane to contain a fire.  She had no idea what triggered it.  She clung to the doorframe in terror.

The plane started bouncing.  They were on the ground but still in motion.  Houlihan watched in horror as the final bounce caused the back end of the plane to separate.  The gooney continued forward on sheer momentum.  Then – nothing.  Everything was quiet.  She started crying.

_None of that nonsense, woman!_   That was what Meyers snapped.  Houlihan returned to the moment.  She entered the cockpit and found Meyers holding one hand to his head.  He ordered her to check on Hall the co-pilot.  Quickly, she realized Hall died.  _We can’t stay here.  The krauts will be all over us any moment._

Houlihan knew Meyers was correct.  She did her best to help him out of the remnants of the plane.  She saw the look on his face when he realized the plane was bisected and no one else remained.  The two left the remnants.  They saw the plume of black smoke from the aft section of the plane approximately five hundred feet away.

Meyers was desperate to save his men.  He raced to the wreckage and Houlihan tried keeping up but failed.  When she did make it, she saw Meyers standing in shock.  The air was filled with the smells of burning fuel and flesh as the fire raged out of control.  They were in a field of some kind, probably a farm given the ruts but no crop due to the winter season.  She asked _what now?_

She had not noticed the truck arrive, nor did Meyers.  Houlihan gasped as two men approached in civilian attire.  One said _Amerikanischen Soldaten._   Meyers said nothing.  Houlihan took the initiative and said _yes, we’re Americans._

Thus began a curious odyssey as the two men helped Houlihan and Meyers onto the back of a flatbed truck.  She knew the men would turn them into the authorities.  She feared what might happen to her.  She knew the stories.  She tried concentrating on bandaging Meyers’ head injury.  She realized he cradled the one arm.

The men stopped the truck at a dilapidated farmhouse.  Neither spoke English but Houlihan and Meyers understood their intent.  The men wanted the Americans to come into the house.  Houlihan expected the worst.  Instead, the men helped the two into a root cellar.  The entrance was a trapdoor concealed underneath a rug.  She found that peculiar.

It felt like hours passed before seeing another person.  Houlihan felt relief as the newcomer spoke broken English.  He was going to help them get back to England.  The local Gestapo had abandoned its search for survivors, presuming all perished in the crash.  The two were transferred to another house, another hiding place, someone’s attic, and then the barn.  Now they were beneath a POW camp.

Nursing school did not prepare her for this; nor did the Army.

#HH x MASH#

“Bonjour,” smiled LeBeau as he approached the two guests in the tunnels with breakfast.  “Enchante, mademoiselle.”

As Houlihan sat up, she realized she had no sense of time.  The tunnels betrayed any hint of night versus day.  She scratched her head and realized her hair was a disaster.  Then she noticed Meyers sitting up in his cot.  She tried a weak smile, “Thank you.”

Carter exclaimed, “Wow, a real nurse!  I sure do hope you like your coffee strong.”

As Carter tried handing Houlihan a cup of coffee LeBeau said, “You have all the grace of a chimpanzee!”  He turned to Houlihan and said, “You’ll have to forgive his lack of manners.”

“That’s understandable,” said Houlihan as she took the cup.

Carter said, “Hey, I know!  When you’re done with breakfast, I sure do bet you’d like to see my chemistry sets!”

“She doesn’t want to see your chemistry sets,” LeBeau snapped.  Houlihan raised an eyebrow.  LeBeau continued, “He’s in charge of explosives.  Kinch – you met him last night – he’s our radio man.”

Meyers asked, “What else do you do, besides pretending to be prisoners of war?”

Carter said, “Aw, shucks, I’ve blown up the Adolf Hitler Bridge so many times the krauts finally gave up trying to rebuild it again.”

“Sabotage,” said Meyers.  “That’s against the Convention, you know.”

LeBeau shrugged, “Someday we’ll win this war.  I’d rather it be sooner instead of later.  Maybe I’ll see that day or maybe they’ll shoot me by firing squad.”

Houlihan smiled, “You’re so brave.”

“Oui,” said LeBeau, returning a smile.

Hogan arrived to make sure his guests were being well treated.  He found his team members attempting to be sociable.  LeBeau enjoyed his cooking duties.  Carter enjoyed talking about blowing up stuff.  LeBeau gave the airs of an interested man while Carter seemed intent on just being friendly.

Newkirk arrived with scrounged items including a Red Cross parcel.  Hogan quietly observed the brief competition between Newkirk and LeBeau as they vied for Houlihan’s attention.  Then he noticed Meyers kept a careful eye.  If the captain wanted to say something, he held his tongue given the presence of a superior officer.

Meyers finally said, “That uniform suits you much better, sir.”

Hogan said, “It does indeed.  London is making travel arrangements.”

When Olsen arrived, Hogan suspected trouble.  Hochstetter arrived.  Hogan reassured his guests everything remained under control.  He returned to his room and set up the coffeepot.  Hochstetter always meant trouble.

_“I’m always happy to assist,” Klink cheerfully said._

_Hochstetter snapped, “Bah!  I’m warning you, Klink; I knew there was something funny going on around here.  I finally have the evidence.”_

_Klink warily asked, “What evidence?”_

_“All this time I thought Hogan was Papa Bear,” said Hochstetter._

_Klink scoffed, “Ridiculous.”_

_Hochstetter cried, “That’s because it’s really you!”_

_Klink gasped, “Me?  Whatever gave you that idea?”_

_Hochstetter explained, “This morning we arrested a member of the Underground.  He told us everything.  Last night, they handed over two Americans from that dreaded air force to the local Underground unit.  Curious how two of the local members wore Luftwaffe uniforms – a colonel and a corporal!”_

_Klink said, “Now really!  I have plenty of prisoners already.  Now, I could of course easily take in two more prisoners but I’m not in the habit of going out and finding them!”_

_Hochstetter said, “I see.  One of them is a fraulein, a very pretty one.”_

_Klink said, “You must take me for a fool.  The Americans don’t let women go into dangerous situations.”_

_“This one is a nurse,” said Hochstetter.  “They were assigned to recover a spy, codenamed Pericles.  They failed, of course, and now they’re trying to get to England.  I knew for a very long time there was something wrong with this camp.  You’re aiding and abetting the enemy!”_

_Klink snapped, “How dare you!”_

_Hochstetter said, “I see.  Then you do not object to our searching the camp?”_

_“Of course not,” said Klink.  “Search all you like.  I’ve nothing to hide.”_

_“We’ll see about that,” said Hochstetter._

Hogan unplugged the coffeepot and hastily stowed it in the locker.  He entered the common room and said, “The Gestapo’s looking for our two guests.  Someone talked.”

Olsen asked, “How’d they know about us?”

Hogan said, “They didn’t.  Get everyone up from the tunnels except Meyers and Houlihan.”

The men understood.  Every now and again, Hochstetter arrived with circumstantial evidence that someone at Stalag 13 was a key player in the Underground.  Usually, he suspected Hogan, but today he suspected Klink.  Hogan needed Klink.  While the Kommandant remained unaware of the origination of his orders assigning him to the camp, Hogan knew it was a brilliant move arranged by operatives working in Berlin.  Any other officer would have shut down Hogan’s operation a long time ago.

The men returning from the tunnels barely made it in time before Hochstetter entered the barracks with two minions armed with machineguns.  Hogan did not appreciate the ferocity the Gestapo employed.  He watched as Hochstetter studied LeBeau’s face.  Then he realized the Frenchman had lipstick smeared around his mouth.

“This is curious,” Hochstetter thoughtfully said.  “Hogan, are your men in the habit of wearing lipstick?”

Hogan said, “We were practicing for our talent show.  LeBeau’s going to play Dorothy in _The Wizard of Oz._ ”

Hochstetter teased, “Are you sure about that?”

LeBeau smiled, “Someone’s got to do it so it may as well be me.”

Hochstetter taunted, “Pity.  I would have thought you’d make a better Cowardly Lion.”

The slur hit its mark and the room became embroiled in a shouting match.  Hochstetter ordered his man to take LeBeau to the cooler.  Hogan protested, but the machinegun forced him to stop interfering.

Once the men left Kinchloe asked, “Now what?”

Hogan folded his arms across his chest and said, “I warned you guys not to get cozy with that nurse.”

Newkirk asked, “What’s got Hochstetter so wise?”

“Someone finked,” said Hogan.  “He knows he’s looking for a man and a woman.  One of those Underground men squawked.”

Kinchloe said, “Sir, we’ve got to warn them.”

Hogan said, “I know but we’ve got bigger problems.  We have to convince Hochstetter he’s barking up the wrong tree.”  He needed a plan.  He also needed to talk to a certain nurse.  Hogan could not afford to lose any man.


	2. Fly From the Coup

#  **Fly From the Coup**

No way was Hogan going to fall for a woman’s tears!  War was men’s business, not a place for women to interfere with.  He did not attempt to contain his fury as he unleashed his tirade.  LeBeau was arrested because the Gestapo was looking for a woman and found him covered with lipstick.  He did not care if Houlihan was simply being friendly or thanking LeBeau for such a lovely breakfast.

Meyers finally spoke, “I think she gets the point.”

“No, she doesn’t,” snapped Hogan.  “Hochstetter would have moved on but now he’s convinced there’s a woman hiding in this camp somewhere!  This is not Camp Co-ed at Star Lake and we’re not singing amusing little songs around a fire!”

“I’m really sorry,” sobbed Houlihan.

As Hogan started pacing Meyers said, “You’ve assigned all the blame to her.  If you were here when it happened, you’d know that your man was quite determined to get a kiss, but I’m sure you’ll overlook his behavior – sir!”

Hogan put his hands on his hips and said, “We’ve been prisoners a long time.”

“And there’s the excuse,” scoffed Meyers.  “She’s young and inexperienced.  She’s also my responsibility.”

“As long as you two are here you’re both MY responsibility,” snapped Hogan.

Olsen arrived and said, “Sir, the Kommandant wants to see you.”

“Great,” said Hogan.  “Make sure these two stay put.”

Of all the rotten luck, thought Hogan.  He hoped that the day did not continue its downward spiral towards the Ninth Circle of Hell.  He knew that Hochstetter would only reluctantly yield if evidence offered itself elsewhere.  The man was relentless.  The compound had only slight activity.  While the men were not confined to the barracks, no one trusted the scene as long as the Gestapo remained in camp.

Hogan did not intend to offend Hilda but his thoughts were so wrapped up in the current situation that he neglected to acknowledge her, let alone steal a quick kiss.  He barged into Klink’s office and snapped, “The Gestapo had no right to put LeBeau in the cooler.”

Klink sighed, “Uh huh, I see.  There’s something funny going on around here, Hogan, and I will get to the bottom of it.”

Hogan sarcastically asked, “Who’s really running this camp?  You – or the Gestapo?”

Klink angrily stood and replied, “That’s not fair, Hogan.  I run this camp.”  He returned to his chair and continued, “The Gestapo is searching for an injured American pilot accompanied by a nurse.  Supposedly, a Luftwaffe colonel with an aide recovered them to help them return to England.  This is most unusual.”

Hogan slyly said, “I see.  Hochstetter thinks you’re a traitor.”  He watched Klink’s face contort.  Hogan leaned against Klink’s desk and said, “And all this time I thought you were the toughest Kommandant in all of Germany!  How long have you been helping my people escape Germany?  It’s an elaborate ruse.  You can trust me.”

Klink said, “I’m a loyal German officer.  What is that American expression?  Someone’s trying to frame me.”  Hogan started pacing the room.  Klink continued, “Hogan, if you know who’s behind this, tell me now and I’ll overlook any complicity on your part or the part of your men.  Are they here?”

Hogan sighed, “Of course they’re not here.”

Klink asked, “How would you know?”

Hogan folded his arms across his chest and replied, “Kommandant, you know I have stoolies all over this camp.  I hear things.  Trust me – I’d know.”

“Dismissed,” said Klink.

Hogan knew the Kommandant was worried.  Klink feared the Gestapo.  He tried releasing his anger.  LeBeau was stuck in the cooler.  He needed a plan.  Stepping off the Kommandantur porch, Hogan saw Hochstetter’s staff car leaving through the main gate.  He knew it was a temporary suspension of police work.  The man would return with greater numbers.

Olsen approached and asked, “Colonel, why’d they leave?”

“Beats me,” replied Hogan.  “Hochstetter’s up to something.”

Olsen asked, “What about Louis?”

“Stuck in the cooler for now,” Hogan sighed.

Olsen said, “Klink’s watching us from his window.”

Hogan turned around and waved.  Klink briefly looked exasperated before walking away from the window.  Hogan said, “This used to be such a happy camp.”  He returned to the barracks, greeted by numerous angry eyes.  He asked, “Am I interrupting something?”

Carter said, “You’re mean – sir.”

Newkirk said, “The poor bird is crying her eyes out.”

Hogan swore, “Damn.”

Baker said, “You did come down awfully hard on her.”

Without saying a word, Hogan activated the tunnel ladder.  He could not afford his camp turned topsy-turvy.  Women did not mean to louse up things.  Maybe Tiger proved that some women were strong enough for this particular line of work but Hogan felt his current guest was in no manner suited for war.  He found Houlihan sitting on the cot next to Meyers who had his good arm across her back.

Hogan said, “The Gestapo’s gone for now.”

Meyers flatly said, “They’ll be back, won’t they.”

Hogan said, “Yes.  Look, I need you both to act like officers.”

Meyers said, “I see, sir.”

Hogan said, “Officers must possess unmatched courage in the face of danger while bearing a calm and determined attitude.  The enlisted look to us and expect integrity and moral uprightness.  It’s not easy leading men into battle so we have to be tough.”

Houlihan looked at Hogan and said, “I’m not supposed to be leading men into battle.  I’m a nurse, and a damn good one!”

Hogan said, “You and me both have to demonstrate compassion.  You just do it differently because of your job.  You’re still a leader.  I’ll bet that when you’re dealing with wounded you manage to stay in control no matter how many different directions you’re being pulled in.  Aw, what’s the use?  Once your hitch is up, you’ll leave the Army and move on to something else.”

“The Army is my life,” exclaimed Houlihan.  “I grew up in it.  My father is a dedicated officer!  I’d do anything.”

Hogan said, “Okay, so you have a healthy dose of ambition and drive, but don’t let it blind you.  Where’s your self-confidence?  I can’t have Ginny the Ninny bawling her eyes out every time she louses up.  You can’t just act tough.  You have to _be_ tough.  If you think you’re going to fail, you will fail.  You have to be decisive – right or wrong – and strong enough to handle the consequences.”

Looking at the two, Hogan felt he made a difference.  Meyers understood but suffered temporarily the blandishment of a woman’s tears.  Hogan needed Houlihan to toughen up, for the sake of his operation and for her own sake as an officer.  If she intended a career as an Army nurse, she had to shed the juvenile tendencies.

“You’re right,” said Houlihan.  “I am an officer.  Thank you, sir.”

“Get some rest,” said Hogan.  “When it’s time to move, you two have to be ready.”

“Yes sir,” said Meyers.

Too young, thought Hogan.  The Army should have sent someone with more experience.  He was not a bad man.  Someone had to tell Houlihan it was time to grow up and officers do not cry.  The Sad Sack caused problems with his clumsiness and ineptitude.  Ginny the Ninny was the female equivalent.  Hogan saw a spark in Houlihan’s eyes.  Today she was no Tiger but tomorrow showed promise.

He had other important matters.  Someone betrayed the Underground.  Hogan went to find out what Kinchloe learned.  The local unit was not responding.  Hogan surmised Hochstetter had them on the run.  He needed help.  He watched Kinchloe spring into action as a message came in on the radio.  Hogan knew Morse code but remained impressed as Kinchloe kept up with the fast pace of the sender.

“London’s sending in some help,” said Kinchloe.  “They want us to pick up the agent at twenty three hundred local time in M-17.  Codename – get a load of this: Queen Victoria.”

“Will comply,” said Hogan.  He hoped this was a good sign.  What kind of a codename was Queen Victoria?

#HH x MASH#

Newkirk did not like late night missions in the middle of the night.  It was the night after the new moon.  The mere sliver of the waning crescent offered no practical assistance in the dark.  He heard the plane’s arrival and flashed his torch.  Instead of a recognition signal from the plane, he barely made out the silhouette of a parachutist.

“Must be a damn Yankee,” muttered Newkirk.

Carter asked, “How can you tell?”

Newkirk removed his cap and swatted Carter on top of the head.  He said, “Don’t be daft.”

“Maybe it’s a kraut,” shrugged Carter.

“Come on,” said Newkirk as he grabbed his pistol.

The two men hurried to the landing spot and found the parachute but no agent.  They looked at each other in momentary confusion.  The two angrily whispered, wondering where the agent went.

“Freeze, Herman,” came a male voice.  The two men stood still.  The voice said, “Very clever, pretending to be Allied soldiers.”

Carter said, “We really are Allied soldiers.”

“Bloody hell,” swore Newkirk.  “Let’s get on with this.  Are you Queen Victoria?”

“That’s right,” said the man.

Newkirk said, “I ought to strangle whoever it was that gave you that name.”

The man asked, “Who are you?”

“Little Red Riding Hood,” said Newkirk.  “Come on, mate.  We need to get going like the wind.”

“I am the wind,” said the man.

Newkirk felt the agent was slightly touched.  The man wore a uniform but something suggested the man was not military.  Newkirk could not question it now due to circumstances and necessity.  They had to make it to camp.  At least the man understood caution.  Newkirk explained the tunnel entrance and the agent managed not to foul it.

Once inside the tunnel, Carter looked at the man who stood poised with his pistol and said, “Wow!  That’s the High Standard HDMS silenced pistol!  You’re OSS!”  The man said nothing.  He took note of Hogan’s arrival.

Hogan asked, “Is this him?”

“Queen Victoria himself,” replied Newkirk.

Hogan introduced himself, hoping to elicit a positive dialogue with the man that stood as rigid as a totem pole.  After a jest about the pistol, Hogan’s jaw dropped as the man recited Hogan’s military career in under two minutes.  He could not afford to be flabbergasted and demanded, “Who are you?”

“Captain Flagg, Military Intelligence,” replied the man.  “You’ve got a traitor and I’m here to flush him out.”

Hogan snapped, “I’ve got a wounded man who needs evacuation.  I don’t need help flushing out a traitor.”

Flagg said, “You have your problems, I have mine.  Where’s Captain Meyers?”

Hogan did not like the agent.  He explained that he was senior officer in charge of the operation.  While he did not typically throw around his weight in such a manner, something about Flagg suggested loose cannon.  He felt he was in more danger with Flagg than the worst of the worst krauts.

The strange meeting in the tunnel continued as Flagg approached Meyers and offered the man a cigarette.  Hogan felt as if Flagg was calculating some diabolical question.  Meyers accepted the cigarette.  Houlihan produced her cigarette lighter and helped Meyers light the cigarette.  Hogan noticed that Houlihan seemed interested in Flagg but the man showed no interest.

After a moment Flagg said, “Talk to me.”

“Oh this is positively delightful,” smiled Meyers.

Flagg said, “It’s a custom blend.  What happened?”

At first, the story felt routine and well thought out, but Hogan noticed something was off with Meyers.  He began speaking in an unnatural and rapid manner.  After a few moments, the man was rambling about the most nonsensical things.  Flagg demanded details and Meyers complied until the strange giddiness returned.  The downing and escape proved typical.  Flagg seemed disinterested.

Even Hogan remained interested in the connection with the Underground.  It seemed too fortuitous that the farmers turned the two over to an Underground cell.  Hogan did not like the way Flagg barraged Meyers with the same question repeatedly.  He was about to order Flagg to stop, but the operative move on with his questions.

When Flagg extended his pack of cigarettes to Houlihan, Hogan grabbed him by the wrist and said, “Those aren’t normal cigarettes, are they.”

“If you don’t get your hand off me, I will break your arm with one thumb, sir,” said Flagg.  The way he said it caused worried looks about the room except for Meyers, who was rambling about some childhood incident involving cowboys and Indians.  Hogan released his grip but not his angry stare.

Houlihan said, “I’d better not.”

Flagg withdrew his arm and said, “Suit yourself.”  He turned to Hogan and said, “I like you, Colonel Hogan.  These cigarettes are laced with tetrahydrocannabinol acetate.”

“I’m not a chemist,” said Hogan.

Flagg said, “An extract from Indian hemp.  Alright, Meyers, you’re clean.”

“I do think I need a bath,” said Meyers.  He continued with more stories that were nonsensical.

Hogan said, “That was uncalled for.”

“You’re a true patriot, Hogan,” said Flagg.  “You stay here and help our boys get back to England.  You can escape any time you choose.  But you’re dumb.  You’re too trusting.  You’ve got a leaky faucet and I’m your plumber.”

Hogan said, “This is my command.  Remember that, Captain Flagg.”

Flagg said, “In my line of work, I’m accustomed to working alone.  You’re looking at the man who once managed to hide a capsule with mustard gas in flowers and have them delivered to Berchtesgaden.”

Carter asked, “Why would anyone do something as dumb as that?”

Flagg spun around, pointed an angry finger at Carter, and snapped, “Hey!  Don’t ever call me dumb.  Hitler was supposed to be there meeting with his generals and we wanted to blind them in one fell swoop.”

Hogan shook his head and nonchalantly asked, “What went wrong?”

Flagg replied, “One of the SS guards dropped the flowers.  The capsule failed to break.  Next time I’ll get Stauffenberg personally to put them on Hitler’s desk.  Hey!  It was much better than Lovell’s plan to drug his food with estrogen so he’d sound like a woman!”  He turned to Houlihan and said, “Baby doll, don’t you worry about a thing.  Once I fix the faucet, I’m getting you out of here.”

Hogan realized Carter was wrong.  Flagg was not dumb; he was a madman.  He decided against having the man bunk in the barracks.  He readily sold Flagg on the idea of remaining in the tunnels.  Hogan needed a vacation.

#HH x MASH#

“Roust!”

Angry prisoners snapped at the guard who dared waken them two hours early.  Changes in routine always meant trouble.  Hogan did not like formation in bedclothes, blankets, and bomber jackets.  The men started forming up in ranks.  Hogan saw the staff car parked in front of the Kommandantur.

Kinchloe quietly whispered, “We lost one of our guests during the night.  I’ll give you three guesses but something tells me you’ll only need one.”

“Flagg,” sighed Hogan.  Silently, he hoped the agent was not responsible for the early roll call.  He watched as Klink exited the Kommandantur, still trying to button his overcoat over pajamas.  Whatever was happening caught Klink unawares.  Hogan tried hiding his face when he saw Hochstetter exit the Kommandantur with Dreschner attired as an SS captain.

Newkirk quietly said, “Oh boy.  This is trouble.”

Hogan said, “Stay calm.”

At that moment, Hogan wanted to run for the hills.  He had to set the example for his men.  Stay calm and bluff.  Hochstetter brought the smoking gun.  Would Dreschner identify him?  Or was it an elaborate ruse on the part of the Underground to discredit the Gestapo?  He managed to follow his own instructions as Klink, Hochstetter, and Dreschner approached the formation.

Hochstetter pointed at Newkirk and snapped, “Is this the Englander?”

Dreschner said, “It could be.”

Newkirk raised his courage and spoke with his best Liverpool imitation, “I say, what is all this about?”

Dreschner shook his head, “I’m not sure.  The voice is wrong.”

Klink said, “Herr Kriminalrat, you’re wasting your time.  These men are prisoners.  To think that they would escape and then return to camp without detection is madness!”

Hochstetter walked over to Hogan and waved over Dreschner.  He said, “This man is despicable.”

Hogan said, “That’s a little harsh.  Why, I bet it meets the definition of cruel and unusual!”  The men laughed.

Dreschner said, “There’s something about him.”

Hochstetter looked at Hogan and asked, “Do you know Dreschner?”

Hogan shrugged, “I’m not exactly fluent in your language.  What does cereal have anything to do with waking us up early and making us stand in the cold?  I’ll make sure to report this to the Red Cross.”

“Bah!”

Hogan secretly enjoyed watching the vein in Hochstetter’s forehead grow exponentially and start bulging wildly.

Dreschner said, “We are looking for Oberst Max Gutermuth.”

Hogan slyly said, “Well, you’re not going to find him in my barracks.”

“Of course not,” said Dreschner.  “He’s technically standing outside right now.  Isn’t that correct, Herr Oberst?  Where are Captain Meyers and Lieutenant Houlihan?”

“We don’t have anyone here by those names,” Hogan curtly replied.

Dreschner turned to Hochstetter and said, “He’s lying.”

Hochstetter scoffed, “I know that, dummkopf!”

Hogan smiled, “Well, alright, you caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.  You see, Major, we’ve had our differences in the past and I can tell you want to tidy up whatever mess you’re stuck with.  You’re determined to fabricate all sorts of things today.  Just tell me whom you want me to point to and say, there’s Meyers!  There’s Hooligan!”

“Houlihan,” corrected Hochstetter.

“Whatever,” Hogan said.  “Everybody knows that the Gestapo wants to take over all the POW camps so they can get rich and fat off the supply dollars and whatever they can get for selling the Red Cross parcels on the black market.  You want me in on that action so there’s someone around to tell the Red Cross inspectors that all is well in this happy little hellhole.”

For a brief moment, Hogan saw doubt on Hochstetter’s face.  He looked at Klink who tried hiding a worried expression.  Then he noticed a staff car entering the camp.  It was too early for visitors.  Hochstetter was bad enough.  Hogan masked his concern when he realized it was marked as an SS officer’s car.

“Es ist gut, dass diese Schweine in der Kälte stehen!”  _It is good to make these swine stand in the cold!_

The voice was unmistakable.  Hogan watched as Flagg marched to the group accompanied by two men.  Flagg wore an SS colonel’s uniform.  The men struck Hogan as familiar.  He realized one of them was Danzig.  He misjudged the strange officer.

Hochstetter said, “Everything is under control.”

“It is not,” said Flagg.  “I’m here to arrest Ernst Dreschner.  He is really Max Gutermuth, a traitor to the glorious Third Reich!”

Dreschner cried, “That’s a lie!”

Hogan teased, “What about Meyers and Hooligan?”

Hochstetter snapped, “That’s Houlihan!”

Flagg said, “Stay out of this Yank.  Dreschner seems to be wasting valuable time and resources looking for people he’s already ferried out of Germany.  Come along, Tommy.  There’s a firing squad waiting for you.”

While Hogan enjoyed the performance and the kraut reactions, he felt disappointed that someone else came to his station to save the day.  Who was this master spy named Flagg?  Even after Klink dismissed the prisoners, Hogan remained lost in thought.  He sat at the table in the common room.

Kinchloe asked, “It’s over?”

“I guess so,” shrugged Hogan.

Olsen said, “Hey, Schultzie is bringing LeBeau back from the cooler!”

“I’m suddenly starving,” said Newkirk.

The men cheerfully welcomed LeBeau when he entered the barracks.  Hogan tried figuring out the situation.  It couldn’t be over – could it?

#HH x MASH#

Hogan heard the assorted wolf whistles and knew he had to intervene.  He found his team ogling Houlihan as she sported a white and red Dirndl Lutteroh.  Meyers remained professional in his Luftwaffe uniform.  The two were ready to escape as Newkirk presented them with forged papers and counterfeit money.  Flagg stood nonchalantly with his arms folded across his chest, attired in his Army uniform.  Hogan motioned for the man to accompany him.

Hogan asked, “You’re not going with them?”

“I’ll take them to the submarine,” said Flagg.  “I have a date in Berchtesgaden.”

“Going to poison Hitler?”

“Or die trying,” said Flagg.

Hogan shook his head, “Why?  How?  Hochstetter had us.”

Flagg said, “Colonel, I didn’t come here to save your ass.  I came because I had a debt.  I don’t like debts.”  Hogan raised an eyebrow.  Flagg continued, “A certain officer saved my life – Colonel Howitzer Houlihan.  That’s right, her father.  I promised to get her out but your leaky faucet was interfering with my operation.  I don’t care what you think of me.  You’re good at what you do and I’m good at what I do.”

Hogan said, “You’re not really in the Army, are you?”

“I tell people I’m Army Intelligence so they’ll think I’m really OSS,” said Flagg.  “Maybe I’m really OSS pretending to be Navy Intelligence pretending to be an Army officer.  You’ll never really know.  That’s the way it has to be.”

Hogan said, “You are the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

Flagg said, “You didn’t ask me how I figured it out.”

Hogan said, “Something tells me I’ll never really know.”

“I’ll give this one to you free of charge,” said Flagg.  “You knew it was someone from the Underground.  I simply employed Oskar for a short assignment.”

“He’s one of yours,” said Hogan.

Flagg said, “Mine, yours, ours – he taught me how to be a Rockette good enough to appear on stage at Radio City Music Hall.”

Hogan laughed, “Radio City Music Hall – that must have been some assignment!”

Flagg said, “I approve of your operation, sir.  I may drop in again.”

Hogan asked, “When?”

Flagg replied, “I am the wind.  I blow wherever I can.  I have to get this young lady out of here.”  Hogan extended his hand but instead of reciprocating, Flagg placed his pack of cigarettes in Hogan’s hand and said, “You never know when you might need these.”

“Thanks,” said Hogan.  “Good luck.”

It was time for the passengers to continue their journey out of Germany.  Hogan said nothing as the two joined him and Flagg.  The two were going back to London while Flagg seemed determined to poison Hitler.  Houlihan stood at attention and saluted.  Hogan returned the gesture and said, “Now get the hell out of here before the guys start misbehaving again.”

Flagg said, “I’ll be back, Colonel.”

Hogan escorted the group to the tunnel exit.  He wanted to go home but he had a job to do.  He was not sure he wanted Flagg returning, as the man had an unusual perspective on life in general and espionage in specific.

#HH x MASH#

Houlihan angrily glared at the three temporarily misplaced civilians impersonating Army officers laughing hysterically.  She shouted, “What’s so damned funny?”

Blake said, “Ease up, will you?”

Hawkeye said, “Oh, come on, Hot Lips!  That guy’s a character!”

Trapper looked at the others and said, “I think she’s got the hot lips for him.”

Houlihan stood akimbo and said, “Colonel Flagg is a true hero and patriot.”

Hawkeye laughed, “He’s an idiot.  Oh, look at her face.  I think she wants him to come back!”

“Pierce!”

Blake sighed, “I know, Major; you’re going over my head again.  Go on; do it.  I haven’t had athlete’s scalp in at least a week.”

She was furious.  Houlihan stormed out of Blake’s office and retreated to the privacy of her tent.  Maybe Colonel Flagg did make a fool of himself.  She remembered the man who helped her escape from Germany.  He was at his prime.  That was almost ten years ago.  While she returned to a life of Army nursing, Flagg continued as an operative.  Maybe he was CIA now or just an extremely clever Army Intelligence officer.  Whatever he was, his missions took a toll on him as a person.

What hurt the most was that Flagg seemed not to remember her at all.  Houlihan was no longer the young and naïve butter bar.  She was the head nurse, a major, and a damned good officer.  She thought about the men at the POW camp.  Did they suffer, as did Flagg?

“Incoming wounded.”

Houlihan had a job to do.


End file.
